Happy Anniversary
by TheKingdomofWaffles
Summary: They were just beginning, but it all had to come to an end. *Character Death*
1. Prologue

Five years. Five long, harrowing years. The same amount of time it had taken him to admit his feelings for her, not only to her, but to himself as well. Today was their sixth anniversary. It was also another anniversary, an anniversary he would love to forget.

He walked into the cemetery, a grievous look on his face. He carried a large bouquet of daisies, her favorite flower. He wandered through the cemetery until he stopped at a grave, her grave. He laid the flowers down carefully in front of it.

Then he sat down beside her and began to talk. He always talked to her like this. He knew she couldn't hear him, so he just figured years of being a fake psychic had finally caught up to him. Still, it felt good. It gave him a moment of solace, it made him almost feel like things were the way they were. You could always count on him to be there on her birthday, their anniversary, or just whenever he was feeling particularly nostalgic.

"I love you," he murmured as he neared the end of his speech. "I think about you every day. I miss you so much, Juliet."

And with that, he was gone.

A/N: Yes! I fixed it! The stupid iPad was messing me up. :( Grr. Anyways, virtual pineapples to all who review! :D


	2. Maybe Fairy Tale Endings Do Exist

It was a bright, beautiful day in sunny Santa Barbara. Shawn Spencer had a smile that could rival the Chesire Cat's as he bounded up the stairs to the SBPD, pineapple smoothie in hand.

"Hello, Lassifrass!" Shawn said as he crashed through the double doors.

Carlton Lassiter sighed as he saw the eager face of his (least) favorite psychic detective. "What do you want, Spencer?"

"Is Jules here?" Shawn asked, craning his neck around the corner in an attempt to see her desk.

"Yeah, she should be at her desk. Just stay out of my way," Lassiter said with a hint of irritability in his tone. He had be become a lot more short-tempered with Shawn's antics since he witnessed Shawn kiss his partner in the interrogation room.

"Thanks, Lassie-face!" Shawn bounded off to his girlfriend's desk.

Juliet was intently staring at her computer screen, so intently that she didn't notice Shawn walk up. She let out a small scream as she felt him quickly kiss her cheek.

"Wow, somebody's jumpy today," Shawn chortled.

"Sorry, Shawn, I'm having a lot of trouble with this case. There is an ongoing string of bank robberies, and we have no leads." Juliet sighed.

Shawn set the smoothie he had been carrying on her desk. "You need this."

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Shawn."

He straightened his back and leaned on her desk. "Anyways, I need to talk to you. Holding cell B in five minutes?"

She nodded and Shawn headed towards the holding cell where he would be meeting Jules in a just few minutes. As he enetered, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

Shawn looked up as he heard the door creak open. Juliet softly walked so no one outside would hear her.

As soon as the door was closed, Shawn grabbed her and kissed her passionately. "Happy anniversary, Jules."

"Happy anniversary, Shawn. I love you."

"I love you too, Jules. The past year was the best year of my life, because I got to spend it with you. And this time, I mean it... Marry me, Juliet." Shawn said quickly.

Juliet's mouth fell open slightly. "Oh," she breathed.

Shawn's face fell slightly. "Is that a no?"

"No," she said with confidence, "it's an absolutely."

Shawn broke into a smile again and engulfed her in a huge hug. "Oh wait!" Shawn yelled. "I forgot!"

Shawn reached deep in his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He pulled it open to reveal the most perfect ring Juliet could ever imagine- It was silver, and had three small diamonds embedded on either side of one slightly larger one. It was perfect for her, beautiful but not over-the-top.

He took her left hand and slid it onto her ring finger, then kissed her hand. She smiled beatifically at him.

"Shawn, we should get back before someone notices that we're gone," Juliet said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

Shawn mock pouted, but agreed. Hands intertwined, they walked out of the holding cell together.

A/N: Sorry, I know it's short. I'll work on it...


	3. Or Maybe Not

Shawn and Juliet pulled their hands apart as they walked but still remained close together. As they approached Juliet's desk, Chief Vick stuck her head out the door.

"Lassiter, o'Hara, robbery-in-progress at the Wells Fargo on Anacapa St. Can you two handle it?" she asked.

Lassiter nodded. Juliet turned towards Shawn and whispered a quiet goodbye.

Shawn watched as his new fiancée followed Lassiter out the door. She turned and gave Shawn a meaningful look before exiting.

*************  
>They drove in silence, Lassiter intent on the road. He kept seeing a glint in his peripheral vision, seeming to come from Juliet's hand. He turned to get a better look when-<p>

"Damn it all, o'Hara, you're engaged? And to Spencer?"

Juliet blushed and sunk in her seat. "... Maybe?"

Lassiter grimaced. "Thanks for the heads up," he muttered.

"Sorry I didn't tell you, but to be fair I've only been engaged for about fifteen minutes," she reasoned.

They rode in silence the rest of the way as Lassiter tried to process the information he had just received.

They both slammed the doors to Lassiter's car as they pulled up to the bank. They could see two perps inside, one pointing a gun at a group of bystanders, the other emptying an ATM.

As they approached the bank, they saw Shawn and Gus pull up in Gus' little blue car.

" What are you two doing here?" Juliet hissed.

"What can we say? We love a good robbery," Shawn said, flashing her a winning smile.

She sighed. " Just stay out of the way and don't get hurt." She then rushed up to where Lassiter was standing and adjusted her bulletproof vest.

"SBPD! Drop your weapons!" The two yelled in unison. The bank robbers exchanged a look, then bolted. Lassiter and Juliet followed them out, guns trained on them. They chased them down the alley where the perps attempted to hop a fence. Lassie and Jules caught up to them though, and once again their guns were aimed.

The one with the gun looked back, assessing the situation. After merely a split second, he drew his right arm back and there was a sickening bang!

Time seemed to stop as Juliet staggered back and fell to the ground. She heard someone call her name as Shawn and Gus rounded the corner.

"No no no no no no no..." Shawn repeated as he ran to her. He put his hand over the bullet wound to stop the bleeding, but blood had already begun to pool around her. He knew the bullet had pierced her femoral artery, and he knew that that injury was fatal.

"Shawn- " she panted. "if I don't make it- "

"No, Jules, you are NOT gonna die. Please, God, no..." Shawn begged.

"I'm sorry, Shawn, I love you..." she breathed. Her eyes went glassy and her head fell to the side.

"No, Jules, stay with me!" Shawn all but screamed, becoming more frantic by the minute. "I love you," he whispered as a tear ran down his cheek. "Don't leave me."

A/N: I know, it's no better in the length department. and I know I fail at writing about bank robberies, murder is by far my specialty. And yes, there was backup, I just didn't feel like writing it in. :[ Just disregard the whole action part.


	4. Sweet Dreams

The next few hours were a blur to Shawn. All he could think about was Juliet. His Juliet. His enigma wrapped in a little blonde riddle. His fiancée. His soulmate.

She was pronounced dead on arrival to the hospitol. Shawn pleaded with doctors and nurses, asking them to please help her. They told him that there was nothing they could do, and that was it.

He sat in the waiting room for hours, hoping that someone would come and tell him that everything was okay, that his Juliet would be fine. No one did.

Eventually, Gus came looking for him. He found him stationary in the waiting room, curled up in a ball in one of the chairs. He knew there was no hope in getting Shawn to come home, so he sat down beside him and waited.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

"Shawn-" Gus began.

"No," was Shawn's curt reply. "Go without me."

Gus sighed and stood up, seeing that reasoning with him was a task better left undone.

****************  
>After another five hours, Shawn finally took a cab home. He wandered aimlessly to his bedroom, where he flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling- there was evidence of her everywhere else. Some of her clothes were in the closet, and he could see her toothbrush in the bathroom. Everything he noticed added to the dull ache in his chest until finally, he fell asleep.<p>

************************  
>Shawn rolled over and rubbed his eyes. He began to pull the covers off of himself, but he stopped short- he distictly remembered having a shirt on when he fell asleep last night. Pants, too; niether of which were present.<p>

He stumbled out of bed and put his clothes on, which were lying on the floor next to the bed.

He yawned and scratched his head as he wandered into the kitchen, where he heard the telltale sizzle of bacon cooking.

"Want breakfast?" a familiar, distinctly female voice asked. The person to whom the voice belonged turned around, revealing the face of Juliet o'Hara.

Shawn ran to her, picked her up, and spun her around. "Well good morning to you too!" Juliet laughed as Shawn hugged her.

"Oh, Jules, I had the worst dream last night. We were chasing bank robbers, and you got shot, and, and..." Shawn spluttered.

"Don't worry, I'm here now," she said soothingly. "It's okay."

Shawn pulled back from the hug so he could kiss her. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, because Juliet let out a small gasp and went limp in his arms.

"Jules?" Shawn asked, "You okay?"

He grew more frantic at her silence. "Juliet? Oh, no... "

***  
>Shawn woke up again, this time in a cold sweat. And for the first time in years, Shawn Spencer began to cry.<p>

A/N: Ick. Short.


	5. No Better Name Than Chapter 5

A/N: I AM SO SORRY that I haven't written so long. I have found out that I have to be either in a really long car ride or pulling an all nighter to make any significant writing progress, neither of which I have attempted lately- Anyways, SO sorry. I think this chapter is a tiny bit longer than the others, though, if that helps it all. :)

Shawn slammed the shot glass down hard on the bar after sinking yet another vodka shot.

His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was mussed, he'd been wearing the same clothes for days; needless to say, he was a train wreck.

The bartender gave him a long look before finally saying, "You look horrible. You're cut off."

Shawm groaned. "Not _yhoo_, _tewww," _he drawled in a drunken stupor. "Effrey wun istaking stuff _away _frummee. I had," he took a long, drunk pause,"WUN chance, to be _happy_, and now she's _dead._ How's THAT fur _fair?_"

The bartender gave him a look of sympathy. "I'm sorry that that happened, but do you think she would want you here, drinking yourself useless?"

Suddenly, Shawn's vision blurred. Everything took on a rather sepia hue, the edges of his sight blurring together, like he was looking through a large magnifying glass.

Off in the distance, he heard the voice of the bartender- he couldn't hear the individual words, just the sound of them all converging.

Large black splotches clouded his vision, obstructing any light. As they grew, they took on a yellow outline, resembling a solar eclipse. They continued to get larger until everything was shrouded in darkness.

Shawn stumbled backwards, falling back and hitting his head on a table.

Everything went black.

The darkness seemed never-ending. Shawn could practically feel time passing all around him, but every time he felt like he could grasp how much, it slipped out of his hand like a bar of soap.

Colorful figures would occasionally dance across his mind, giving him just seconds of relief from the black abyss. Bright fuchsias and deep blues chasséd across, carrying on their brief tango of light.

The endless cycle of darkness and light carried on for what felt like years before Shawn slowly began to slip into consciousness.

A room materialized around him. His eyes tracked from the light blue covers to the linoleum floors, all the way to Gus, who was perched in a small, mostly plastic armchair.

Gus looked up from his binder containing no doubt hours worth of pharmaceutical information. He gave Shawn a look that had a strong mixture of relief and disapproval.

There was a brief moment of silence before Gus began to speak. "Don't you ever do that to me again."

Shawn adopted a look of confusion. "Come on, you know what I'm talking about."

"No Gus, I really don't," Shawn croaked, his voice hoarse.

"Figures, you _were _ damn drunk," Gus muttered. "You really don't remember?" he paused. "You were at a bar, downing shot after shot, when you fell back and hit your head on a table. You really messed yourself up; you were in a coma for two days."

Slowly, it all began to come back: It was the day of her funeral, and he had barely made it through the service.

People had offered their condolences, but none one, save Gus, knew exactly what for. They all thought she was just a departed girlfriend, just a thread in the tapestry of his grand romantic scheme. They didn't know the real magnitude of their relationship, much less the effect it had had on him.

He grimaced at the thought that if this had happened about eight months later, he would he would be a widower.

He never thought he would be the kind of guy who would actually settle down. Try as he might to deny it, deep down he always thought that as soon as the psychic thing no longer held any weight for him, he would skip town again.

_No, _he thought, _ I wouldn't. _He had way to many ties to Santa Barbara- Gus, Jules, dare he say _his dad; _he could never leave.

"Shawn!" Gus nearly shouted, snapping Shawn out of his trance.

He blinked a few times and focused on Gus.

"Shawn, I honestly don't understand what you're going through. I've never lost a fiancée. But she was my firmed, and I can't lose two of you in the same week." Tears welled up in Gus' eyes, threatening to spill over.

This wasn't the part that shocked Shawn; Gus had always been a crier- he cried all through _Titanic, _at those sad Sarah McLachlan ASPCA commercials, everything. The part that rattled him was the extent of his situation- Gus was absolutely right. He couldn't sit around and mope forever, but he certainly didn't want to let her go.

A/N: Again, sorry for the wait (and it didn't do as well as I thought in the length department either...). ALSO, sorry 'bout the whole drunk business- I've never been drunk, nor have I been around a whole bunch of drunk people. Not a ton of experience there.

If Gus is Ovaltine Jenkins, you should review!


End file.
